


Potions, elixirs and fairy dust

by Yheela



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Romance, Teenagers, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-05-13 00:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5687983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yheela/pseuds/Yheela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 1981 and Arabella Oaks is a 17 year witch, attending her last year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Arabella Oaks smoothed the nonexistent wrinkles on her yellow dress. Across the street stood a Muggle boy about her age and he had been eyeing her for quite some time. She pretended not to notice his staring, flicking her long hair over her shoulder and gazing down the street. If left waiting there much longer the boy would work up a nerve and come over to talk to her. He had a cute smile and seemed friendly enough, but she didn’t have time to chat and he had one huge flaw. Not being Felix Elphin.

Her grandfather said he would only be a few minutes when he left her in Diagon Alley to buy the last of her school books, that had been 45 minutes ago and her stomach growled hungrily. They had decided on a small Italian restaurant for their dinner. Her grandfather loved pasta in all shapes and sizes and he usually entertained her with stories about his travels across Europe, looking for magical beasts and eating delicious food.

Arabella had grown up with her grandparents, as her own parents were out in the world studying beasts and other magical occurrences. She would see them every few years and they kept a fairly regular correspondence by owl. They loved her, she was certain of it, but she was also certain that they would rather see her done with school and come live with them out in the world. Arabella didn't know if she wants to lead a life on the move, she was rather fond of the small cottage she shared with her grandfather. Her grandmother had passed away four years ago under mysterious circumstances, there were talks of a dark magic, but nothing was confirmed.

When she wasn't at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she helped her grandfather with his business. He bred Nifflers and Knarls, both highly sought after animals and very easy to handle, if you know how. It’s said a Niffler bred by Augustinus Oaks is one of the finest treasure hunters to be found. The thought of breeding or hunting magical beasts wasn't very appealing to Arabella. Her forte lie in potions and the mixing of magical powders. She had always been making ointments and poultices for the animals at the farm and for treating small ailments her grandparents or herself might suffer.

All summer she had been perfecting the potions she brewed previous years at school and she had even dared to try some of the easier potions and one or two of the more complicated ones for her final year. She was rather worried, there were rumours that seven year Potions was very demanding. Arabella wasn't very good at showing off, she had made good grades by studying hard and keeping quiet in class. Her most Hufflepuff trait being her gentleness, closely followed by an eagerness to work hard. Professor Slughorn had been pleased by her quiet and efficient ways, but even though she knew she was good at potion making she felt uncertain that her skills would be enough to achieve the highest grade. She shook her head, no need to fret before the term had begun.

“Arabella, dear girl.” Her grandfather put his arm around her shoulder and had her walking towards the chosen restaurant. “I'm sorry I'm late, but Figglesworth wouldn't stop talking about this new creature they had found in Siberia.”  
“And he brought out the best fire whiskey too, didn't he…” She waved her hand in front of her face, to show the old man how much his breath smells of the stuff.  
“Ha! Can't sneak anything past that nose of yours.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze before letting go to open the door. The smell of garlic and tomato sauce had both their stomachs growling. “Good evening my good man, give us your best table!”

“I can’t move!” Her grandfather moaned with pleasure as they slowly walk from the restaurant.  
“Maybe that fifth dish was a mistake?” Arabella laughed and rubbed her full stomach, feeling very content. After almost falling asleep on the tube and dragging themselves along for a few streets, they found themselves standing in front of an old Victorian building, non-visible to Muggles, with a Bed and breakfast sign in a window.  
“Oh, a bed! My kingdom for a bed.” Her grandfather chuckled as he knocks on the door.  
“Or at least a couple of your NIfflers?” Arabella hid her tired giggles behind her hand as an old house elf with fluffy white tufts of hair in his ears opened and bowed, his nose touching the floor.

“Mr Oaks, Miss Arabella, welcome. We have your usual rooms waiting for you.” His cracked voice was as welcome as it was well known, a stay at Mrs Knits B&B has been a tradition since forever.  
The first year they had gone to London without grandmother had been horrible, but they had soldiered on, going to the places she loved and talked a lot about her. It still hurt, but Arabella knew she was never truly gone, not as long as they remembered and talked about her.  
“Thank you Boon. Is Mrs Knits still up or has she retired for the evening?” The old lady had a similar interest in potion making and Arabella had spent many late evenings discussing the use of ingredients and the right way to stir a potion.  
“She has retired for this evening, Miss.” The house elf bowed again and ushered them up the stairs towards the back of the house. There was a cheerfulness to the old house, as if all the satisfied guests had left happy thoughts and laughter behind and they had been ingrained in the walls. Arabella’s room was a pale yellow, with sunflower paintings, large bronze cats in the window and an enormous four poster bed full of pillows and an old quilted comforter, her second home away from home. Her large school trunk stood next to the bed, as did her purchases from Diagon Alley. They always had them delivered to the B&B, it wouldn’t do to show up at Muggle restaurants with wizard paraphernalia.

Arabella looked longingly at her trunk, the Hufflepuff crest painted on the side by her grandmother during her first Christmas holiday from Hogwarts. Both her parents were in Ravenclaw house and she suspected them a little disappointed that their otherwise brilliant daughter wasn’t sorted into the same house. Grandmother Rose on the other hand, a Gryffindor through and through, had embraced her granddaughter and while holding her gaze had removed all Arabella’s feeling of failure.

“Your mind might be brilliant, but your heart is all gold. Be proud of who you are Arabella, don’t lead a life trying to be someone else. There’s a quiet kind of brilliance in having a good heart that many brainy people won’t understand, but they will feel it and you will do wonderfully. I just know it my darling.” They had started sketching the Hufflepuff crest on pieces paper to get it just right for her trunk, it was one of her fondest memories of her grandmother.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Arabella woke to a small house elf, in what looked like a pink pillowcase, placing cup of tea next to the bed. 

“Oh Miss. I didn’t mean to wake you Miss.” Her voice was squeaky and a little alarmed. Arabella yawned and sat up stretching. 

“It’s quite alright Nissy.” The house elf curtsied and hurried away. As she stirred her tea Arabella made a mental list of everything that needed doing before she was to leave for King’s Cross Station and the Hogwarts Express. She had to check her luggage, sort through her school books and choose which ones she was to read on the train and she had to make sure her grandfather set off home, the young wizard looking after the animal is expecting him by late afternoon. She glanced at the clock on the dresser, it was only 6.30. They didn’t need to be at the train station for another 3 hours, plenty of time to repack her things and enjoy Mrs Knits scrumptious breakfast buffet. 

 

Finishing her tea she untangled her long blonde hair and tried to decide on what Muggle clothes she would wear. The yellow dress from yesterday was her favourite. She had found it in the boutique in the village near the cottage at the beginning of summer. It had been repaired twice already, once from her not being careful when jumping from a tree after picking mistletoe and having it get caught on a branch, the other time she had ripped a hole in the skirt when picking rose petals for her perfume. 

There were sounds coming from the stairs as the other guests were waking and making their way to the breakfast parlour, which was next to Arabella’s room on the second floor. She slipped her nightgown off and flung it on the bed. 

“Accio perfume.” With a quick flick of her wand her perfume bottle came zooming out from the trunk and she caught it before it swished past her face. She spritzed the air and walked back and forth in the fragrant cloud of rose and honeydew perfume. Carefully she folded her nightgown around the glass bottle and placed it inside the trunk again, she stroked her yellow and black tie and the black lapels of her school robes before turning to her Muggle clothes and got dressed. The smell of crispy bacon and coffee made her mouth water and she decided to do the rest of her packing after breakfast. 

“Grandfather.” Arabella knocked on the door next to hers and muffled steps were heard from the other side. The door opened and the comforting sight of her grandfather’s wispy white hair, scruffy beard and mischievous blue eyes greeted her as he gave her a scratchy good morning kiss on her cheek. 

“I’m starving.” He grumbled and  Arabella laughed, a rich belly laugh that filled the stairs and had the portraits on the walls give her big smiles. 

“I thought you had eaten enough last night to last you a lifetime?” Her grandfather chuckled and lead the way towards the breakfast parlour. 

“That was yesterday, today is a new day.” 

 

“Are you taking the train back home?” Arabella poured some more coffee into her grandfather’s cup. He closed his eyes as he took a careful sip. 

“Yes, it’ll give me ample time to read this new report on Knarls and their uses.” Augustinus Oaks was a proud Muggle born wizard, he had never quite broken with his Muggle past and relished in mixing with Muggles and using public transportation, thus starting up conversations with unsuspecting Muggles, whenever he could. 

Arabella’s mother came from a long line of witches and wizards, as did grandmother Rose, making Arabella feel equally at home in both worlds. Every summer she spent a week with her maternal grandparents, in the wizard village of Ottery St Catchpole. This summer grandmother Aurelia had invited most of the village to celebrate Arabella’s 17th birthday. It had been a grande affair, with music and dancing and a large cake in the shape of a sunflower. She had had a wonderful time, the only cloud on her sunny sky was the fact that her parents hadn’t made it back for this momentous birthday in the wizarding world. They had sent her a box of exotic plants and herbs, knowing she’d find good use for them, but she would much rather have had them bring it themselves, or even just themselves and a hug from each. 

 

After finishing breakfast, and worriedly reading the newspaper about the lack of real news about anything, she hurried upstairs to finish her packing. Dragging her grandfather with her to make sure he did his before he forgot and missed his train. She decided on reading  _ Advanced Potion Making _ on the train and leave the newer books for later, the passage on Everlasting Elixirs had some very interesting mixtures that she hoped they would cover in Potions. 

“Pack.” Pointing her wand at the room had all her things fly up in the air, fold neatly and pack themselves in the trunk. Turning 17 was the best thing, because now she could use her magic whenever and however much she wanted. A few mishaps with spilled food and getting smacked in the face by books were nothing when compared with the feeling of perfectly conducting a spell at home for the first time. 

 

A final look about the room showed her nothing left behind, so she went and stood in front of the full length mirror. It was one of her favourite things about this room. Her low heeled black suede shoes looked slightly worn, but not worn out, her bare legs were still a golden brown from being outdoors so much and the thin black belt attached to her knee length dress highlighted her slight form. She had a white knitted cardigan to wear over her shoulders, hiding the thin spaghetti straps and warding off the cool evening air at Hogwarts. 

Arabella thought of her mother, they shared quite a few features, but her mother was as dark as Arabella was blonde. Biting her lip she studied her face in the mirror, full lips that smiled often, green eyes she once had had described as emeralds and a straight nose with a slight sprinkling of golden summer freckles. Quite the little fairy, as her father used to say every time they met. Though she liked to think she wasn’t as vain as those little creatures, always preening and fussing with their wings. 

 

“You’re looking lovely dear. Though may I suggest a swipe of lipstick?” The portrait of a young Victorian woman tapped her finger to her chin and tilted her head to the side. Arabella smiled at the painting and turned to her large shoulder bag to find said product. She had purchased a light orange lipstick yesterday as her grandfather was looking at Muggle radios, why he needed another one she couldn’t fathom. With utmost care she applied the lipstick and took a step back. The woman in the painting nodded with approval and Arabella couldn't do anything but agree with her. Her face was bare of any other makeup, but her tan and happiness were enough, the light orange almost an orangy pink and the pop of colour brought a smidgen mischievousness to her features. Shouldering the bag that doubles as school bag, she flicked her wand at her trunk.

“Collolappicus.” The lid of her trunk closed and the buckles snap shut. “Locomotor.” The trunk rose from the floor and she guided it out the door and down the stairs to the front door. Her grandfather was already there, a large backpack strapped to his back. Before she allowed the trunk to settle on the floor he helped her strap on baggage wheels, making it much easier to transport it across Muggle London. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta read and published as is.


	3. Chapter 3

“Darling girl!” The smell of lavender and cooking announced Mrs Knits right before Arabella found herself embraced by the elderly witch. “I cannot believe you’re 17 already! And such an handsome young lady, always smiling and ready to give a helping hand. How on earth shall I ever be able to manage without your visits?” Arabella hugged her back and slipped out of the embrace.  
“Mrs Knits. It’s not as if I’ll stop coming to London. And you know we never stay anywhere else when we’re here.” She gave the witch her brightest smile and saw her calm down and return the smile.  
“Oh you’re right, but 17! My dear, you truly are a beautiful young lady.” Mrs Knits smile turned into a frown and she cupped Arabella’s chin. “But be careful my darling, there have been reports of attacks on the tube… and I just don’t...” Arabella smiled again and gave Mrs Knits a peck on the cheek before opening the door and tugging her large trunk down the stairs to the street. No need to tell the elderly witch her fears of having to wait one hour by herself at King’s Cross after her grandfather leaves. 

Grandfather was smiling widely and humming as they walked towards the train station, as much as he loved the cottage and breeding Nifflers and Knarls he loved the city and all the Muggles just as much. The terror of He Who Must Not Be Named hadn’t affected them in the same extent as other Wizard villages, living so far out in the country. And they were yet to experience more than hushed whispers and odd looks while in town. A couple of punk rock kids passed them, their hair in mohawks and safety pins stuck everywhere. Muggles gave them plenty of room, but Arabella and her grandfather only smiled at them. One of the boys smiled back, he had kind eyes and seemed slightly surprised that someone as proper looking as Arabella would look him in the eye, smile even, but when living under the terror of evil wizards and witches, a few Muggle punks seemed as dangerous as kittens. 

“Will you be alright Arabella?” The look on grandfather’s face was serious for once as he glanced between her and the big board announcing train arrivals and departures. “I can always catch a later train and wait here with you.” She gave him a disarming smile.  
“No, I’ll be alright. I’ll go sit over closer to the platform and read my book.” She patted the side of her shoulder bag. “Now, go or you’ll miss your train.” His beard scratched her lips as she stood on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.  
“Send me an owl when you’re settled in.” She shooed him off.  
“I always do.” Watching him melt into the mass of Muggles hurrying to catch their trains she felt a tiny fear poke at her heart. It was only 60 minutes, maybe one of her school friends would show up to keep her company, maybe Death Eaters would start handing out flowers instead of curses. She sighed and pulled her trunk towards an empty bench not too far from platform 9 ¾. 

She had to leave her trunk standing against one of the great pillars, too many people gave her nasty sneers as they more or less fell over it when she had it next to the bench. Afraid to have it moved by anyone she decided not to read and sat there people watching instead. Parents tried managing their children in the mass of people hurrying to and fro, old people shuffled along looking confused or determined to catch that train. Kids her age passed, laughing and talking, music streaming from Walkmans and boomboxes. She watched them longingly, what she wouldn’t give to have anyone she knows from Hogwarts here right now.  
“Well, well, well…” The voice had her sitting very still. She immediately wished she hadn’t wanted Hogwarts company. “If it isn’t itty bitty fairy princess Arabella.” Cepheus Denshaw’s husky voice made Arabella’s insides churn, at school he wouldn’t stoop so low as to hassle her, but waiting to be allowed onto the Hogwarts Express platform must be a new kind of boring. She turned her head and saw that he was accompanied by Egmont Brown and Circe McLeod, both of them looking more bored than amused at Cepheus choice of time killer. 

All three of them were, of course, in Slytherin House. Both Cepheus and Circe wore silver snakes pinned to their crisp white shirts and Egmont had the green and silver gray necktie loosely tied around his neck. Cepheus Denshaw was, with his wavy brown hair, chocolate brown eyes and tall build, according to many girls at school devastatingly handsome. Him being the Slytherin Keeper did help too, his slightly muscular build hinted of him spending much of his time working out and practicing. Arabella could see what about him would make the girls swoon, but there was a darkness in him that scared her and she tried to avoid his notice as much as she could.  
Circe McLeod was tall and slim with ebony hair, pale skin and dark blue eyes. Paired with a cold disdain for everyone not worthy had her looking every part the Ice Queen. Her robes were always new and the latest fashion, there was hardly a girl at school not envious of her clothes budget or who harboured a secret wish to be included in her very selective world.  
Egmont Brown was large, tall and wide, with straight blonde hair that seems to defy gravity as it stood straight up without the help of any products. His blue eyes were often devoid of feeling and he seemed to get most of his muscles from beating up other students or slugging away at Beaters. Whenever Cepheus went after someone Egmont was close by, ready to step in if things need to get bloody. 

Cepheus glided down next to her and casually lay his arm over the backrest, not really touching, but close enough for it to be uncomfortable. Arabella forced herself not to move and inch, or take his bait. Calmly she told herself he couldn’t do any real damage here, among Muggles, but seeing how glorified the Death Eaters are by so many Slytherin students she wouldn’t put it passed him to try something stupid.  
“Nothing? No comebacks or hissy fits? No sticking your nose in the air and pretending you can’t hear me? Oh, that’s right. You’re Hufflepuff...” The last bit said with a sneer. Grandmother Rose always said bullies thrive on fear and drama, and if being fearless and gentle didn’t help a good punch to the nose would do the trick.  
“Hello Cepheus, did you have a nice summer?” She prayed her voice was as steady as she needed it to be. Arabella was a firm believer that being friendly and smiling would disarm most people, Muggles and magic folk alike. Circe and Egmont acknowledged her with a look before turning away and ignoring what took place on the bench behind them, it was clear that nothing worth their while was going to occur. Cepheus on the other hand seemed determined to get a raise out of her and smiled unpleasantly. 

“Oh yes. Father and I made sure the Mudbloods living near our property left, never to return…” His eyes dared her to ask by what means, but she was too busy biting her tongue to not go off on his use of the term Mudblood. He was smiling smugly, waiting for an answer.  
“Well, that’s nice. Spending time with your father.” He narrowed his eyes at her gentle smile, not quite believing her being unaffected by his words. Biting his lip he looked her deeply in the eyes and turns on his charms. Arabella willed herself not to recoil in abhorrence.  
“And you? What did you do, besides tan those shapely legs of yours?” She felt his gaze slip all the way from her face, down her body and back up again. A long bath and scrubbing every inch of herself, that was what she was going to do when she got to Hogwarts.  
“A Potions geek like me? Oh, I’ve been perfecting my tasteless Essence of Insanity and Laxative potions.” She made as if pouring something into a goblet. “They’re ripe for testing any day now…”  
Arabella smiled sweetly at him, she was rather annoyed that she had to resort to using fear to get him to back off, but she had to make him believe she was serious and she really wanted him to leave her alone. Cepheus leaned back, eyes half closed and face unreadable. The wheels must have been turning in his head, because he’s absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the backrest.  
“You can actually brew those potions?” He didn’t seem to think so. Laxative potions were easy. Essence of Insanity though. She had never even contemplated creating that one, it just slipped out. There was a feeling of foreboding, her answer might well shape her year at Hogwarts and she wasn’t sure that was a good thing. 

“Ceph, I thought you said you wouldn’t be here until a few minutes before the Express leaves?” Arabella’s insides turned to mush, but in the best possible way, and she forced her face into a pleasant, but at the same time closed, smile. Felix Elphin, his black hair combed back and his bright green eyes focused on Cepheus, was standing next to Egmont. How long has he been standing there?  
Feigning calm Arabella let her eyes devour him, if she were to stand next to him he would be little over a head taller. His shoulders were broad and his waist slim, almost like the Muggle swimmers she saw on her grandfather’s TV during the 1980 Summer Olympics. He was wearing a pale blue blazer, a white shirt, black trousers with razor sharp creases and his shoes were brightly polished wingtips. Such style on such a handsome boy.  
Felix continued to talk to Cepheus who nodded and answered, but Arabella couldn’t make sense of the words. There was a scar on his upper lip that hadn’t been there before summer and she clutched her bag in order to not get up and let her fingers touch his face. His eyes never once stray from Cepheus, so she felt quite safe staring at him. Besides, he was the one talking at the moment, it made sense to look at him. 

“Come on. They’ve opened the barrier.” Circe’s bored voice cut through Arabella’s daydreaming. Egmont had already pushed his trolley towards the brick wall, followed by other students and parents, all eager to get onto the platform. Circe didn’t wait for Cepheus to follow, but she did turn around and rest her hand on Felix’s arm. “Coming Elphin? Don’t want to have to share a compartment with first years…” There was a Scottish lilt to her otherwise polished RP, something she was going to work hard at cutting out from her speech during the following months. Why she didn’t keep it was a mystery. Arabella found it made Circe more human. So maybe that there was the answer.  
“On my way Circe.” Shrugging her shoulders she turned and calmly walked towards the barrier. Circe McLeod never ran for anything. 

Cepheus hadn’t moved, his arm is still casually draped the backrest, but Arabella couldn’t stand it any longer. She had to get away from these two, albeit for different reasons. She stood, absentmindedly brushing at her the skirt of her dress. Both boys stopped talking and watched her. Feeling herself blush she quickly turned away for neither of them to notice, Cepheus would most likely find some way to torment her if he thought he could make her blush. And Felix, there were just too many emotions in her body and thoughts in her head at the moment to make sense of anything having to do with him.  
Her trunk was still waiting for her by the pillar and she dragged it towards the barrier, knowing very well she couldn’t break into a run to cross it. Arabella had never during her previous six years walked onto platform 9 ¾, she had always done it at a run. The sensation wasn’t pleasant and at the same time not unpleasant either, she couldn’t decide what it felt like and this occupied her mind as she walked the length of the Hogwarts Express to find an empty compartment.

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read and published as is.


End file.
